by Sara King
Seeing how perfectly he imitated Lagrah, right down to his drawling Ooreilian accent, something snapped into focus for Joe. He felt a coldness pool in his guts, remembering that Na’leen had wanted his cooperation that first day he’d summoned Joe to his opulent chambers high above the city of Alishai. And Joe had refused. Swallowing, he whispered, “Were you Yuil, too?”
The Huouyt smirked and gave a slight bow, his Ooreiki face wrinkling in smug satisfaction. “There is more than one tool to declaw a Dhasha,” the assassin said. “Especially when dealing with such…” he looked Joe up and down in disdain, “simple minds.
“Negate the pattern,” Na’leen ordered. “Our goal is not to antagonize him.”
Immediately, Zol’jib inclined his head and went to a vat of water in one corner of the room and submerged himself. When he stood, rivulets running down his metallic clothing, he was once more in the shape of a Huouyt, his body crawling with writhing white cilia.
Joe felt hot fury scraping the inside of his veins, watching the transformation. They didn’t get me the first time, so they made me come. That’s why Scott’s dead.
“Ignore him.” Na’leen waved a dismissive arm at his assassin. “Don’t you want to return to Earth, Zero? Don’t you miss your family?”
You’re holding my family. Joe looked at Libby. She was still faking her exhaustion. She thinks I’m trying to distract them so she can attack. He felt a surge of affection. However, with no weapons nor a biosuit, against a Jreet and almost a dozen Huouyt, Libby didn’t stand a chance. He glanced behind him and located Maggie in the group of children huddled against the wall. They were all still wearing their biosuits, though the Huouyt had removed their gear and piled it against the wall. The Ooreiki hung beside them, their Congressional uniforms tattered and their bodies limp and defeated. He took a deep breath. “You let them go and I’ll—”
“Kihgl didn’t give you his kasja because of a Trith prophecy, Joe.”
Joe jerked to look at Battlemaster Nebil. He had hung in silence the entire time, watching him. He used my real name, he realized, in shock.
Battlemaster Nebil met his gaze and held it. “He gave it to you because he knew you’d make one hell of a Congie.”
Joe felt a rush of gratitude for his battlemaster. He ached to tell Nebil his problems, wishing he had done it sooner. Looking into the old Ooreiki’s eyes, he knew that Nebil could help him. I don’t know what to do. The Trith said—
“Now you may kill him,” Na’leen said. “We have what we need.”
An arc of fire shot through Joe’s being as the Jreet struck his battlemaster with his sheathed chest-fang. “No!” Even as he rushed forward, Nebil’s sudah gave a brief flutter above the point where the Jreet’s fang entered his chest, then his body went limp, his tattered corpse hanging from the hooks in the wall like a drooping pile of loose meat.
A deep, burning hatred ate at Joe’s lungs, making it hurt to breathe. In that moment, he knew what he had to do. Dad fought for Sam. Joe would fight for his friends.
Instantly, the Trith’s words replayed in his mind. You will try to fight it, but invariably, your path will lead to the same end. Joe took a deep breath and ignored them.
Please let this be the right decision.
“Libby, you remember Sasha?”
Na’leen frowned as Libby mumbled something in response. “What did she say?”
“Remember how Sasha died?” Joe said.
“How could I forget?” Libby’s exhausted façade dropped away and she jammed a fist into Zol’jib’s throat. His white-blue eyes looked startled as she whirled, slammed a foot into the side of his head, and lunged away from him as he fell. She spun around Na’leen, jumped under a Huouyt’s grasping arm, and yanked a plasma rifle from his belt. She started firing into the Huouyt and they let out startled cries and tried to shield Representative Na’leen.
Joe’s guard tightened its paddle-like arm around Joe’s bicep. Joe jammed his other elbow into the Huouyt’s face, wheeled, and kicked it over as it reached to protect its eyes. Then he turned back to help Libby. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Zol’jib pull something the size of a small pen from his pocket. Joe lunged at Zol’jib, taking him down as a Jreet uncloaked behind Libby.
“Jreet behind you!” Joe shouted.
Libby swiveled and hit the Jreet in the throat with plasma and it began to thrash, bowling Huouyt over with its tail. More Huouyt screamed, their bodies spattered with the plasma from Libby’s gun. Na’leen’s assistants were ushering him from the room, leaving several Huouyt behind to fight.
“Release me!” Zol’jib snapped, trying to wriggle his wet arms from Joe’s grip.
“Not a chance, asher.” Joe held on tight, keeping the Huouyt’s slick, paddle-like arms pinned tightly to his sides so that only the tips could move.
The Huouyt’s electric-blue eyes radiated fury. “As you wish.” Joe felt a pinprick on his side where it touched the Huouyt, like a bee sting. Then, suddenly, all of his muscles went limp. Joe could feel everything, but could control nothing. Nothing except his voice.
An interrogator’s weapon, he realized. It left him in the most terrifying state of paralysis he had ever experienced. He could only listen helplessly as his groundmate continued to struggle behind him. “Watch out, Libby! They’re using poison!” he screamed.
Zol’jib shoved Joe off him and stood. “Libby! Behind yo—” Joe’s words ended with a grunt as the Huouyt’s powerful leg knocked the air out of him.
As Joe fought for breath, Zol’jib stalked toward Libby. Before he reached her, another Huouyt grabbed her from behind and kicked her knees out from under her. Without her biosuit to protect her, she collapsed, the Huouyt wrenching her stolen rifle from her white knuckles with one paddle-like tentacle as he wrapped the other around her neck. Though he couldn’t raise his head to see, Joe could hear her choking as the Huouyt strangled her.
“Don’t hurt her,” Joe desperately said to the floor. “You need me as a friend, not an enemy.”
Apparently, they released her, because the choking sounds stopped.
“My boot, Joe!” Libby shouted.
Her boot?
Joe glanced to his left. Libby’s gear lay stacked in a pile on the floor in front of him. Her boots stood off to one side. Only her rifle was missing. Suddenly, he remembered Libby disarming Tank’s fahjli grenade and stuffing it beneath her laces. His eyes caught her left boot. The dull blue surface of the grenade peeked out at him.
“My boot, Joe!”
Doesn’t she realize I can’t move?
“Libby, I can’t—” Zol’jib interrupted him as he hauled him to his feet.
Libby was giving Joe a look that pierced his soul. Glowering at him, she drew her knees to her chest and threw her long arms around her legs. She had bruises on her neck and arms where she’d struggled with the Huouyt. Joe ached to help her, to hold her, but he couldn’t even wiggle his pinkie finger.
“We’ll take them both,” Na’leen said from the doorway. “Even if she is not the one we need, she will do well in our army.”
“I’ll never fight for you,” Libby said, her eyes fixed on Joe. “I am not a traitor.”
Joe felt a stab of fear, realizing she had misunderstood. She thought he had given up! She thought he had surrendered. “Libby, I—”
“Shut up,” Zol’jib snapped. “No more code.” The Huouyt’s downy tentacle brushed his neck. Joe felt another pinprick and all powers of speech left him.
Representative Na’leen had noticed Libby’s scowl. “You have no idea who he is, do you, girl?”
Only reluctantly did Libby’s eyes leave Joe’s face. To Na’leen, she said, “Who is who?”
“Your friend. Zero. He’s what every Congressional citizen has been waiting for since our society was spawned. He is the one the Trith have foretold will destroy Congress.”
No!
Libby jerked as if she’d been struck and gave Joe a wounded look. “You will?”
N
o, no, no! It felt like his body was floating outside his body, watching from afar, utterly disconnected from the controls.
“The Trith came to you that day too, didn’t he, Joe?”
After countless hours in the tunnels, Joe knew she could read his eyes, just as he could read hers. She knew Na’leen was telling the truth, just as Joe knew she hated him for it. He felt an ache of despair and closed his eyes, wishing he could explain.
“And he said you would destroy Congress?”
Joe could only listen miserably, unable to even twitch his head in the negative.
“You’re a rebel, Joe?”
No! I’m standing next to a burning assassin and I’m paralyzed, can’t you see that?!
Libby’s face hardened. “Well you know what the Trith told me, Joe?”
He said I was a traitor. But I’m not. I’ve got an assassin’s poison in my veins and I can’t. Burning. Move!
Like a panther rising from its nap, Libby stood, her gaze fixed on Joe. “He said I’d have to kill you to save Congress.”
Joe’s eyes jerked open. At the same time, Libby hurled a knife at him.
The blade hit home. Joe felt the air rush out of him as it slammed into his chest in an arc of wet fire. He reeled, staggering backwards. He heard a commotion, a Huouyt screaming, and the soggy burp of a plasma rifle going off. Then, nothing.
Joe was on his back, staring at the ceiling, his vision fading to a red haze. His heart was slamming in his chest, slicing itself on the blade, driving the agony deeper into his body. He grew weaker, unable to even call for help.
She hit me in the heart, Joe thought. His mind felt as clear as ever, utterly logical. I’m dying. Not even nanos can work fast enough to save me.
He knew he should feel hurt, betrayed, but all he felt was frustration. It was all a misunderstanding. Libby didn’t really hate him. She did what she thought she had to. If only he could explain! Then, as his vision faded, taking his thoughts with it, he saw a slender black shape crumple to the ground. Something about the way she fell sent another jolt of adrenaline lancing his shattered veins.
Oh God. Libby!
CHAPTER 39: The Tug of Fate
“Dad didn’t come home last night, Joe.”
“What? How do you know?”
“I stayed up on the sofa waiting for him. I heard Mom calling the hospital this morning.”
“Why would she call the hospital? Where’s Dad?”
“I don’t know, Joe, but the aliens are saying they killed a bunch of Marines last night. I hacked into their waves. They laid a trap for them.”
“Shut up, Sam. You’re lying.”
“I’m not lying, Joe! Get out of bed! Mom wants to talk to you.”
“We’ve got to go find him.”
“Dad? Mom told me not to leave the house. She wants to talk to you.”
“So let’s go out the window, okay?”
“Sure, okay. You know where he is, Joe?”
“Probably pinned down somewhere. You know where they laid their trap?”
“By the river. Pushed them into the water. It was on the news, Joe.”
“I think Mom heard us. Your door just slammed.”
“Run, Sam! We’ve gotta check the river.”
“But Mom’s gonna—”
“Just run, Sam!”
“Joe, what’s that up there? Why are all those kids—”
“Shit, Sam, hide!”
“They’re behind us, too. Joe, they saw me.”
Stay away from my brother you assholes!”
“Joe! Help, Joe!”
“He’s breathing.”
“It’s an improvement. Brain damage?”
“Possibly.”
“Will it impair his functions?”
“I don’t have the proper equipment, so it’s completely up in the air. Your dose was the best Congress has to offer, but he wasn’t breathing for several minutes. I think the drug I gave him kept him sedate enough to avoid too much damage, but I’m still not sure he’s completely stable. The antidote showed no change at all.”
“He can’t die. The Trith told him he’d be the one.”
“We don’t know that. He could’ve been lying.”
“The girl tried to kill him for it. Possibly did kill him.”
“So what should we do? We’re losing time.”
“Can you move him?”
“Not sure. Humans are delicate.”
“Representative, Commander Pur’wei is having problems in the third Alishai ring, near the shuttle launch. He wants to talk to you.”
“If it’s not important, I’ll pull his breja out myself.”
“Representative Na’leen?”
“Yes, Commander, what is it?”
“You were supposed to kill all the Dhasha, sir.”
“Excuse me?”
“There’s a Dhasha ripping apart my regiment out here. Biggest one I ever saw. He’s leading a small Ooreiki contingent against our positions. Rousting them every time. He’s pushing through Alishai, headed straight for you.”
“Curse him to the ninety Jreet hells. Fine. We’ll move things forward. Destroy all the haauks you can find, force him to walk as far as possible. Jreet hells! I’d like to know how that janja slug survived space. Zol’jib, is he awake yet?”
“No, Ko-Na’leen.”
“Then stay here with him. Meet me at the main control hub once he wakes.”
“You’re firing the ekhta?”
“Bagkhal gives me no choice. If he finds a usable haauk, we only have eighteen tics before he tears open the door and finds his way down here.”
“What did you do, Joe?”
“I’m sorry, Mom.”
“What did you do?! Where’s your brother?”
“He’s… He…”
“The aliens got him, didn’t they? You let the aliens take your brother, didn’t you?! Answer me, Joe!”
“I’ll help Dad get him back. I’ll go with them tonight and get him back.”
“Your Dad is dead, Joe. All of his friends are dead. There’s no one to help your brother now. They’re both gone. I told you not to let him leave the house and you took him anyway and now he’s gone!”
“I could go find Dad, Mom. We could get Sam back together.”
“You’re just a stupid kid, Joe. A stupid kid who gave his brother to the aliens.”
“I’ll find Sam, Mom. I’ll get him out, I swear.”
“Oh just go to Hell, Joe.”
“Hey asher. Thanks for getting my platoon killed. I knew Lagrah would never make us do anything this stupid. Libby had the right idea when she tried to gut you. Too bad they killed her.”
Joe’s eyes flashed open. Rat stood by his arm, sneering down at him.
“Shut up, girl.” A Huouyt pushed her out of the way and beamed down at Joe. Joe recognized Zol’jib and felt bile burning his throat.
“You killed Libby?”
“She acquired another plasma weapon and was going to use it on you.”
No. Joe let his head fall to the side, away from Rat, away from the Huouyt. He found himself staring at Libby’s empty boot.
You will try to fight it, but invariably, your path will lead to the same end.
What if Nebil was wrong? What if he had to help Na’leen? What if everything he did only prolonged the inevitable? What if he’d just gotten Libby killed?
No. The voice within him seared through his veins like fire.
The Trith never said how I would shatter Congress. The sheer truth of it resonated within him, extinguishing his doubts. I’m a Congie. Bagkhal was right. I don’t have to help them.
Joe clenched his fist, reveling in the strength he felt there.
Zol’jib noticed the movement. “He’s weak. Gather the other Humans. They’ll carry him.”
“Like Hell.” Rat spat at Joe and backed away, throwing off the Huouyt’s grip.
“Rat,” Joe said. She hesitated and frowned down at him. “I’m gonna need your help.”
>
“I’ll never help you again, traitor,” Rat said.
“I’m not a traitor,” Joe said, eyes falling once more on Libby’s boot. He thought he could see a naked human form sprawled on the floor beyond it, but couldn’t make his eyes focus on it. I never was.
You will try to fight it, but invariably, your path will lead to the same end.
Joe sat up and tore the fahjli grenade out of Libby’s boot. As the Huouyt watched with startled white-blue eyes, he twisted it and set the grenade down on the ground between them. “Take the ones along the wall,” Joe said to Rat. “I’ll get these.”
As Zol’jib bent to retrieve the grenade, Joe grabbed the knife Libby had thrown at him and rammed it into the creature’s tubular, downy white chest. It reeled backwards in surprise, forgetting the grenade. Instead of pulling the knife free, Joe twisted it and yanked down, eviscerating him from neck to legs. Several egg-shaped orange lumps gushed from the wound on a wave of clear mucus. Zol’jib let out a terrified, musical wail and Joe kicked him backwards off his knife.
When the fahjli’s blue flash went off, Joe descended upon the others. The startled Huouyt could only watch in horror as he slaughtered them. Joe killed five before the flash wore off and they began reaching for their weapons.
“Put it down, Zero!” one of the Huouyt snapped, its mirror-like eyes staring back at him in calm disdain. “You are outgunned. I don’t care what Na’leen said. Fight us, and you won’t get out of here alive.”
Joe glanced back at Rat, who had another plasma pistol in her hands. A group of four terrified recruits were huddled behind her, eying the Huouyt in terror. Like Joe, all of them were naked, their bodies bared to the dozen guns aimed on them.
Sometimes you’ve gotta stand up for yourself, even when you know you ain’t got a chance.
He spun and slammed his knife into a startled Huouyt’s throat. As his opponent fell, something carried him onward, a culmination of every bit of anguish, every bit of rage, every bit of terror he had endured in the past months. He leapt over the body and dove into the startled throng of defenders. Something deep within was powering him, now, pushing him, electrifying his limbs as he sliced through his opponents with a detached grace. More Huouyt rushed into the room and grappled him, but they couldn’t find a secure hold and their bee-stings didn’t work on him.
